Older And Non The Wiser
by ILUVRONWEASLEY
Summary: DMHG Draco Malfoy, forced to marry a woman triple the age of him with a son almost the same age as himself, decides to stop his stepson from bringing strange women home by getting him a girlfriend with brains. However, things don’t turn out as he hopes...
1. Chapter One

**Older And Non-The Wiser  
By ILUVRONWEASLEY**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything apart from the plotline and a few selective characters that you should have never heard of before.

**A/N**: Hello, and thank you for choosing this fanfic to read! A few things I wanted to mention:  
**1) **Voldemort isn't going to be an important part in this fic.  
**2)** This was started back in 2004 – after Order of the Phoenix, but before Half-Blood Prince. That means **no spoilers**! Also, Draco's hair is still gelled back, unlike how it was in the Prisoner of Azkaban movie.  
**3) **I put this fic under the rating of Teen, because there isn't any detailed violence, sex, or foul language. However, there will be reference to sex, and some _not good_ English (and by that, I mean along the lines of 'damn' or 'bloody'). I thought it would be good to mention it; that was all.  
**4) OOC**. The original idea for this fanfic was from a dream, so I guess it was harder to write the characters well when the plotline and ideas were already there.

Thank you and sorry for the long Author's Note, but I promise it'll be the only one. Please enjoy reading!

-

**Chapter One.**

Draco Malfoy was now a fully-grown twenty-one-year-old. He was tall, handsome, and rich as well. He could have anything he wanted. Anything. But that was before he got married.

About a year ago, Harry Potter had finally defeated Voldemort and now the dark wizards that once terrorised the wizarding world were either in Azkaban, in hiding, or, like Draco, acting innocent – although Draco was indeed innocent. His father had insisted that he committed no crimes unless it was necessary – that way, if Lucius got sentenced to Azkaban, Draco could still carry on the family name.

However, Lucius Malfoy had died when Draco was twenty – from a fatal illness that had no cure. Draco always knew that his father was stubborn. He had seen him drink many homemade potions in an attempt to prolong his life, but he had refused to see any sort of healer.

He found them annoying.

In his will, Lucius had clearly stated that his son was to be wed to a woman by the name of Eudora Ethan, whether Draco agreed to the marriage or not. The woman was rich (almost as rich as the Malfoys) and she was not ugly. There was only one problem. She was more than triple of Draco's age; in fact, she was sixty years old. To make matters worse, she had an eighteen-year-old son, who was named Hugh Ethan. This boy was the worst part of marrying this woman.

He was nearly as tall as Draco, with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes as well as a well-built body, but it was his attitude that annoyed Draco the most. He was snobbish and impolite and he didn't treat Draco with the respect that Draco thought he thoroughly deserved.

In simple terms, Draco and Hugh did not get along.

It was two o'clock and Draco was watching BWTC – the British Wizarding Television Company - an indulgence that only the richest of wizards could afford to have. He could hear the front door creak open and he knew immediately who had entered.

Hugh.

"Your mother wanted you back home at midnight, not two," shouted Draco, sipping at his glass of elfin wine, the newest and most expensive brand of wine there ever was.

"Hugh! Stop it! At least wait until we get into your room!"

Draco rolled his eyes. Hugh had come back drunk once more and he had brought back someone with him - again. It was like this every Saturday. He would sleep with the girl and then in the early hours of the morning, he would kick her out and his mother would be non-the wiser. Then, he would still be the charming, brilliant and innocent son that she had always adored.

To be honest, Draco didn't know why he didn't tell Eudora that her son wasn't as innocent as he seemed. She might die sooner that way.

Contrary to popular belief, Draco did not despise his wife. It was just that he didn't like her either. He switched the WT (wizard television) off before heading up to his bed, where his wife was already sleeping soundly.

-

"Good morning, Hugh," said Eudora, smiling happily as she walked carefully to her chair. "Good morning, Draco."

"Good morning, mother," Hugh yawned. Draco could see the after effects of his activities last night in his facial expressions.

It was sickening.

He was beginning to get tired of seeing Hugh bring woman after woman home every week. Sure, most of them were fairly decent, but it wasn't fair that only Hugh got the pleasure, while Draco simply got to sleep next to an old woman who was (hopefully) nearing her death bed.

"I think I might skip breakfast today mother," said Hugh. He prodded his scrambled eggs with his fork for a while, before getting up and tucking his chair in. "I can get the house-elves to bring some food up when I'm hungry."

He left in silence. Eudora calmly drank some orange juice. She slowly turned to Draco and gave him a smile. "You know, Hugh is getting older now, Draco. I think it's time for him to settle down."

Draco did not reply immediately. Just because he was married to the woman didn't mean that he had to talk to her. He let her continue with what she was saying.

"We should find him someone nice, intelligent; someone who shows respect, manners, charm. Oh, and it would be a bonus if she was young and beautiful."

Draco nodded as he began cutting his bacon into small chunks. After all, it would be rude of him to not respond at all.

"Maybe you could find someone who you think would suit Hugh?"

At this, Draco looked up at the old woman's face. _She _expected _him_ to choose the _right woman _for _Hugh_. He stood immediately.

"I think I might go for a walk."

-

Draco stared at the trees near the Ethan Manor. He knew many wizards that enjoyed nature - looking at flowers; trees; studying the creatures that muggles adored. Personally, he thought those people were daft. Didn't they have better things to do than sit and 'enjoy mother nature's work'? He thought that the world should move much faster and therefore, get much more done.

The only reason he was sitting on a bench in a muggle park, staring at a tree he didn't find particularly interesting, was because of the problem Eudora had tackled him with.

Finding a willing and suitable woman for Hugh to spend the rest of his life with was impossible. No woman who had a brain that could think for itself would stay with someone as ignorant as Hugh – that was...unless they wanted him for his money.

Draco smirked to himself as he thought of any woman he knew that would take his oh-so-delightful stepson. But alas, all the women he knew were either the wrong age, not loyal enough, or downright dumb. He tapped his fingers against the wood of the bench, thinking hard for someone appropriate - until something hit him in the face.

He frowned and picked up the paper aeroplane that had been thrown at him.

"Hey Mister, I need my plane back."

Draco looked at the child that stood before him. She had long locks of ginger hair (plaited) and lots of freckles matching the colour of her hair. Draco inwardly groaned. This girl was a Weasley.

"Be polite, Trixy!"

"Yes, Aunt Hermione."

Draco froze.

Hermione.

That name was all too familiar. He hadn't had any contact from anyone at Hogwarts since he had graduated (with the exception of a select few people that he did business with) and he didn't _want _to keep contact with people. Pansy Parkinson had tried, of course, but he had simply said that he was too busy with his new position as a husband.

He turned to Hermione and saw nothing surprising. A scowl was what she sported.

"Draco Malfoy," she said, the words rolling off her tongue. "What a lovely surprise. I was hoping that I would never see you again."

"Likewise." He replied.

They stared at each other for a while before Draco had a sudden idea (and a brilliant one at that). Throwing the paper plane back to the Weasley girl that he couldn't remember the name of, he turned back to Hermione.

"_Aunt_ Hermione, is it?" Draco smirked as he leant back on the bench he was sitting on. "I thought you would have gotten married to Weasley. Or maybe it's Potter that you're after?"

Hermione deepened her scowl and watched as Trixy ran away with her plane. "No, Harry likes being a bachelor and Ron's married, with a child, as you can _clearly _see."

"So, are you going out with Longbottom then?"

"No. If it shuts you up, I'm single."

Draco's smirk widened. This was exactly what he had wanted to (and expected to) hear. Indeed, Eudora had said she wanted someone intelligent for her son - as much as Draco hated to admit it, Hermione was very intelligent. She wanted someone 'beautiful' and Draco, being truthful, would say that she wasn't bad.

Although hell would freeze over before he ever told her that.

He looked her up and down. She saw him looking.

"Excuse me, but aren't you married? Why don't you spend your time looking up your wife instead of me?" She gabbled indignantly, her cheeks turning slightly red.

"Don't worry Granger, I'm not checking you out. If you saw my wife, I bet even you wouldn't want to look at her that much."

Hermione looked at Draco suspiciously, trying to decide whether she could trust him or not.

"Come Granger," said Draco, patting the space beside him on the bench. "Sit."

Hermione gave him a look that clearly said she thought he was mad. First eyeing her up and then telling her to sit next to him on a bench that, in her opinion, was far too small, was not her idea of 'sane'. Draco watched her as she reluctantly sat.

"Granger, are you in any need of money, by any chance?"

She thought about it. Her mother and father were getting old now and they were in need of someone to take care of them, but as Hermione had to work, it was hard to look after them herself and it was too expensive to hire someone decent. Plus, her job as manager of Flourish and Blotts didn't pay all too well and she felt guilty if she asked to borrow money from Harry.

"I guess I could do with some extra money…but hang on a second, what are you trying to get at?"

"I have a position for you, Granger."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. Draco sounded too serious. She laughed bitterly. "What? As your gardener or something?"

"No, one much more luxurious than that," Draco smirked as he edged closer to Hermione and found that she was edging away from him. "My dear wife has a young son, well, almost as old as you and I, to be precise, and my wife thinks that it is about time he settles down and marries –

"Stop right there, Malfoy," interrupted Hermione. "You're asking _me_ to be your stepson's wife. Well, seeing as how _you_ turned out, he's probably nothing short of a spoilt, annoying, little brat, so pray tell me why I should even consider this position?"

"Because, my dear Hermione," began Draco, smirking all the more as he felt Hermione shudder at the sound of her name coming from his lips, "I shall pay you five hundred galleons _per day_ if you agree to marry him and I shall make sure that you live a life of luxury, surrounded by books, books, and more books. And anyway, I'm sure that even _you_ get lonely sometimes without your dear Weasley or Potter to keep you company."

Hermione thought about this as Draco watched her. Well, she _would_ get more money, enough to afford a servant for her parents and enough to buy a decent house for them too...but, wouldn't that be the same as selling herself?

"Don't be so dignified Granger. Live a little."

Hermione sighed. She supposed he was right. Ron was happily married and hardly had time to meet up with her or Harry anymore. Harry did try to meet up with her occasionally, but it was hard to be around him in public and have a semi-decent conversation when he was a well-known celebrity. Would they mind if she took on such an offer from Draco?

She closed her eyes in disappointment and knew that she would probably regret it later.

"Fine, I'll do it."

-

**A/N:** I hope that was okay. Please review and tell me what you think! All constructive criticism welcome!


	2. Chapter Two

**Older And Non The Wiser  
****By ILUVRONWEASLEY**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Please do not sue.

**A/N:** I'd just like to say thanks for the kind reviews and comments that were left on the last chapter! I heard that you aren't allowed to do individual thanks anymore, but I want you all to know that I've read every single one of your reviews. Hooray! They make me so happy! Heehee.  
Anyway, to clear some things up, if there are any missing spaces in between words, that isn't my fault. When I edit something online (after it's uploaded on this website), it randomly takes out my spaces sometimes. A bug, perhaps? And I'm sorry if it seems a little unrealistic of Hermione to suddenly agree to something as big as marriage…but for the plot to work, I guess it had to be that way…

Thanks and enjoy!

-

**Chapter Two. **

"Ron, I need you to come and pick up Trixy earlier today."

"Aw, why Hermione? It's nice and relaxing here for once."

"Look, I need you to come and get your daughter, _now_."

"…Fine, fine. I'll be there in a sec."

Hermione pulled her head out of the fireplace and spluttered uneasily. She really didn't enjoy talking by floo powder – after all, nobody would feel safe if they knew that only their body was safely to the floor while their head was temporarily located elsewhere.

Draco watched, amused. He had to admit, she looked rather comical, coughing and spluttering up ash. It was these sort of things that would make Draco chuckle. He was now standing in Hermione's house, which he had to admit was bigger than he thought it would be. To be honest, he thought she lived in a shack.

Within a matter of seconds, Ronald Weasley shot out of the fireplace. He brushed himself down and beamed at Hermione.

"So, where's Trixy?" asked Ron, looking around. "She's always –

Ron's bulging eyes landed on Draco, who was now leaning against the wall examining his fingernails. After all, nothing else in Hermione's home was that interesting really.

"What in blazing hell is he doing here?" Ron bellowed.

"Ron, calm down," said Hermione, immediately springing in front of Draco as Ron began to move towards him. "He's here to give me a job offer - it's nothing that you need to worry about. And anyway, if you get blood on my carpet, you're going to be the one to clean it up, thank you very much."

"Anything that has to do with him and you, is something I need to worry about, Hermione," Ron replied, scowling at Draco.

"Look, I'm not some fifteen-year-old that needs looking after. I'm as grown up as you are and now I would truly appreciate it if you could just take your daughter, and leave me in peace to talk to Malfoy."

Ron stared at her for a second before he finally nodded silently. He spotted his daughter who ran to give him a welcoming hug. "Okay Trixy, we have to go now. Say bye to Aunt Hermione."

"Bye Aunt Hermione! Bye stranger!" Trixy Weasley exclaimed. She waved before running into the fireplace, grabbing some floo powder and saying the words that would take her home. Ron soon followed, but not after scowling one last time at Draco.

"Don't you dare to even _touch_ her, Malfoy," he threatened, "otherwise you'll have me and Harry on your case."

"I'm shivering." Draco muttered sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He didn't feel the slightest need to be scared of Weasley _or_ Potter. They wouldn't hurt him, not while he was standing in Hermione's immaculate home.

Once the Weasleys had left, Hermione beckoned for Draco to follow her. They left the hallway and went into a much larger room, with a table in the middle, and a giant window to the side.

"Malfoy, I'm giving you ten minutes. I have work in half an hour."

"Oh, don't worry Granger. If you take my 'job offer', you won't even need to go to work. Now, let me guess where you work." Draco pondered this for a moment; trying his hardest not to laugh at the look Hermione was giving him. "That place in the ministry? Hold on, no…I have it! It's a…bookstore! Am I right, or am I right?"

Hermione did not reply, but instead, got up towards the kitchen.

"Tea?" she shouted through gritted teeth.

"No thank you. I thought I only had ten minutes?"

"Oh just get on with it, Malfoy."

"Now, if you do take the job, you will have to pretend to be a pure-blood. If my 'adoring' wife asks why she has never heard of your family, then you say that your father never did like people interfering with your lives. If she asks what you do, I suggest you say something along the lines of 'strictly private information', or some kind of gibberish. Oh and of course you will need to quit the job you have now, just to stop suspicion. Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded and sipped her tea, sitting down on the chair furthest away from Draco.

"Malfoy –

"That's Draco to you."

She rolled her eyes. "Draco, then, how much will I get paid for this?"

"Five hundred galleons."

"_Only_ five hundred galleons?"

"I believe that's quite a lot in muggle terms, Granger, whoops, I mean Hermione. How much do you wish to receive?"

"Well, considering the fact that I may be in danger of getting sexually harassed and also being near such _dark _people, in itself is a danger, I think I need a lot more money - you know, for life insurance or something like that," Hermione said calmly, placing her tea on the table, taking care not to spill it. "I would think at least one thousand galleons would be reasonable."

"Haha. No. You're not worth that much."

"Seven hundred and fifty then."

"Good Lord, are you trying to rob me woman? You're hardly worth five hundred, let alone seven hundred and fifty. I would say five hundred and one galleon, and that's as far as I go. You can leave the job if you wish to, _Hermione_, but keep in mind that hardly anyone is willing to offer you such a well paid job offer."

Hermione sighed. One galleon more was better than one galleon less.

"All right. When do I start?"

"Now."

"What?" She gaped at him. He smirked back at her. "I've already said, _Draco_, I have work! I can't do it _now_! And anyway, I don't even know the guy! Surely you're going to set us up on some dates before getting me to _marry_ him! Hold on a minute, you are going to get him to propose right? I refuse to marry someone who won't even propose!"

Women. They had such priorities.

"Fine, a date, tonight, I will pick you up at Flourish and Blotts. What time do you finish?"

"How did you know I work at Flourish and Blotts?"

"Seeing as you never could seem to get out of that place, it would only seem logical for you to work there. I bet you get free vouchers on books or something – a privilege you couldn't possibly give up. But you haven't answered me yet, when do you finish work?"

"We lock up at half seven. Happy now?"

Draco smirked. Indeed he was happy; what was there to be sad about when all his troubles seemed to have suddenly faded away?

-

"Damn you, Hermione. Where are you?"

Draco growled to himself as he paced up and down the abandoned street of Diagon Alley. He had told Hermione to be on time (_perfectly_ on time) and he had expected her to live up to his expectations. He continued to pace, not even noticing the door of Flourish and Blotts slowly creaking open.

"Finally!" He exclaimed in frustration. Hermione glared at him. "Where have you been? You were meant to be out here at half past seven, _exactly_! It's quarter to eight!"

"Well, I'm sorry, Mr Malfoy," she said, rolling her eyes and folding her arms across her chest. "I'm afraid we can't just kick the remaining customers out of the store purely for your convenience."

Hermione had a point, but by now, Draco wasn't listening. Crossing her arms had attracted his attention towards her breasts. He sighed. Young and active ones were the ones he wanted, not old and saggy ones that he usually got. He shuddered at the mere thought of it as Hermione began to make her way towards the magical carriage behind him.

"Haven't you ever heard of a car, Malf – Draco?"

"No, in fact I have not." Draco did not seem to be lying as he clambered into the carriage and took a seat opposite Hermione.

"Right," he began as the carriage began to move of it's own accord. "We are going on a double date, so my step-son, who is called Hugh by the way, will act much more civil than he actually is. Plus, you'll get to meet my _darling_ wife and eat at a posh restaurant, so that will be two new experiences for you."

She scowled bitterly. "What makes you think I've never been to a posh restaurant?"

"Well," Draco began, "You don't seem the type to eat small portions and it is one's knowledge to know that good restaurants _always_ have small portions."

Hermione's eyes bulged. "What? Are you calling me _fat_?"

He had insulted her, twice, in the same minute. Lucky for Draco, he immediately shut up, sensing that danger was near approaching - danger in the form of Hermione, that was.

"Let's just sit now."

And that was what they did, until they finally stopped in front of a run-down house. Hermione raised an eyebrow but did not say anything. How very typical of Draco to take her to a well-hidden restaurant that was probably run by You-Know-Who. They were just about to walk through the nearly broken door, when he stopped suddenly, making her bump into him. He spun around, looked her up and down, and groaned loudly.

"What?" Hermione asked, her mind beginning to panic. "Have I got something on my face?"

"No…" Draco said, shaking his head. "It's rather what you're wearing."

She looked down at her clothes. She wore black pin stripe trousers with a blouse and a plain black robe that had the Flourish and Blotts symbol embroided on it. She sighed; Draco did have a point.

"Well, it's a bit late now for me to actually go home and find something to wear," she stated matter-of-factly.

"And the fact that I bet all your clothes are muggle won't exactly help either," Draco frowned, taking his wand from his pocket. "Let me think…Hugh likes the feminine look –

Hermione grimaced. It wasn't that she was not feminine; it was just that Draco saying this made her feel so…_masculine_.

Draco closed his eyes and waved his wand absentmindedly. Immediately, Hermione's plain black robe changed into a stunning scarlet one. Her blouse and trousers changed to a red strap dress that she thought was a little tight on her, but judging by the approving nod from Draco, he obviously thought it was fine.

"Now for the hair."

"What about my hair?" Hermione said indignantly. She did not enjoy having someone play around with her like a Barbie doll.

"It's too bushy and look at those split ends…do you not condition?" She ignored this as he waved his wand once again. Hermione suddenly felt her normally comfortable bushy hair change into something that was much, much, less snug.

"What, exactly, have you done, to my hair?" She stuttered, raising her hands slowly to try and feel what it was like.

"Magic, _darling_, magic. It's nothing much," Draco smirked, pocketing his wand. "Consider it a favour. It isn't easy to fix hair as badly looked after as yours, Hermione."

She scowled but decided against arguing with him. No, that would merely be time-consuming and boy did she want to get this thing over and done with.

"Just…lead the way," Hermione mumbled through gritted teeth, as Draco continued to smirk. He walked through the doorway and into the run-down building. She followed and as soon as she entered and closed the door behind her, the scenery dramatically changed.

-

**A/N:** Please review and give me your thoughts on the chapter! Next update should be in a week or so!


	3. Chapter Three

**Older and Non-The Wiser  
By ILUVRONWEASLEY**

**A/N:** Okay, I am **_so _**sorry for posting this so much later than when I said I would. You see, I was planning to update this fic weekly, but everything just kind of got on top of me and I didn't quite get around to it. Please forgive me!  
Before I leave you to read the chapter (and review! Please review) I want to say that I've decided one disclaimer is enough for the whole story, right? I'm sure no one actually thinks I own Harry Potter, which I do not, so there really is no need to repeat myself. Thank you, once again, for all the lovely reviews and I apologise (yes, again) for the OOC characters. I know, I know, but the plot won't work unless I tweak them...

Please enjoy your read and have a good day!

-

**Chapter Three.**

What seemed like an old house before was now a luxurious five-star restaurant.

"Name, please?" asked a man who was standing by the door. He was at least six foot tall and looked remarkably like Frankenstein.

"Malfoy. My wife should already be here," said Draco, his nose high in the air. The man looked from Draco to Hermione with a slight hint of curiosity in his eyes. He looked down at the scroll of paper in his hands before giving an approving nod.

"Yes, Mr Malfoy, please go on through." He pointed at a door to the left of him that had 'V.I.P.' written in sparkling gold letters. Draco started towards it, gesturing for Hermione to follow. Together, they walked through the door into a dimly lit room. Hermione could see two people inside.

"Ah, Draco dear, please do introduce that lovely lady by your side," said Eudora as she smiled at Hermione, showing her false teeth. Hermione resisted the urge to shudder. Next to Eudora was of course, her son, Hugh. She looked at him and saw him ogling her.

'_Pervert,_' Hermione thought. She was _really_ regretting this agreement now.

"This is Eudora," Draco said, gesturing to his wife, "my wife, and this is my step-son, Hugh. Eudora, Hugh, this is Hermione Granger."

Hermione put on a false smile and shook Eudora's hand. When she went to shake Hugh's, he kissed it instead.

"Pleasure to meet you." Hugh smirked, as Hermione awkwardly smiled back.

"Do take a seat Draco, Hermione," said Eudora. She took a sip of her wine as they seated themselves on the chairs available. "Now Draco darling, tell us a bit more about Hermione here."

"Well, I think it would be nice if we let her talk for herself," Draco smirked, nudging Hermione in the ribcage with his elbow. She glared at him quickly before smiling nervously once again.

"Erm, there's not much to say about me really," Hermione stuttered.

"How do you and Draco know one another?" Eudora asked, her bony hands hovering above her wine cup distractedly.

"Oh, we met at school," she began, "Hogwarts."

"Does that mean that you and _him_, are the same age then?" Hugh questioned her. His eyes were glinting brightly, even in the dim candlelight. There was something about him that made Hermione feel very uncomfortable.

"Well, we were in the same year group, yes," muttered Hermione, glancing at Draco who was casually playing with his wand.

"Oh," said Hugh, grinning to show off his sparkly white teeth. "I hear Hogwarts is a very good school. Personally, I prefer Durmstrang. I went there myself and so did my mother here. It was much more simple there and I reckon we had a much better headmaster as well."

Glancing at Hermione, Draco couldn't help but smirk. He could see the fire burning in her eyes: her anger at Hugh's blatant insult to her beloved Professor Dumbledore. In a desperate attempt to control her pride, she smiled a sickeningly sweet smile directed at Hugh.

"Oh really? Well, I never did think about going to Durmstrang. I guess Hogwarts was just too good for me," she said, as Hugh raised his eyebrows in surprise. Obviously, he had never had a woman disagree to his opinions before, even if it was in a polite manner.

"I've heard that Hogwarts has houses? I wonder, what house were you in?"

"She was in Slytherin," Draco interrupted, just as Hermione was about to reply with 'Gryffindor'. It was a well-known fact that Gryffindors and Slytherins did not get along and Draco didn't want that fact to ruin the mood.

"How very…interesting," Hugh said, picking up his wine glass as it automatically refilled itself. He sipped at it, smirking at Hermione delightfully. Turning, he whispered into his mother's ear. Eudora nodded with a smile and stood.

"I'm just going to freshen up a bit," said Eudora, nodding at Hermione and Hugh. "Draco, be a dear and go check when the food is coming. It's been an awfully long wait and I'm sure we'd all like to eat."

Hermione instantly realised what Eudora's plan was: get her alone with Hugh. She began to feel something inside of her, something that was almost certainly fear – what would Hugh do once they were alone? She didn't want to know. She turned to Draco, who was staring at her with a look of inquisition. Her eyes pleaded with him not to leave her. She couldn't handle Hugh alone and Draco knew this well. Calmly, he turned to face his wife with a somewhat sarcastic smile.

"There's no need to worry dear," said Draco. "I'm sure the waiters will be here with our meal soon enough; there isn't any need to rush. After all, we're not paying for nothing. Now, run along, you want to be back before the food comes, I'm sure."

Eudora frowned and glanced at Hugh nervously for a second before nodding and leaving the table. Draco finished his drink in one gulp and smiled in satisfaction. He didn't enjoy the thought of how useless Hermione would be by herself, but he did enjoy tormenting Hugh. Yes, that was fun.

"You always have to ruin everything, don't you?" Hugh snarled quietly. "You're so immature."

"Immature?" Draco smirked in delight. "Why, I am deeply offended, I assure you."

Draco caught a glimpse of fury before Hugh turned away from him to face Hermione. "I do so apologise for my stepfather's atrocious behaviour," began Hugh, eyes gleaming, "I dare say you had a tough time putting up with him if he was like this back at Hogwarts, but let's not let him ruin our evening. Tell me, what do you do for a living?"

"It's hard to explain really," Hermione said, trying to remember what Draco had told her to say earlier. "It's private and I've been sworn to secrecy, so I'm afraid I can't tell you, at least not now."

Hugh's smile widened as he leaned closer towards Hermione. "A woman with secrets, eh? I like that."

Hermione smiled uncomfortably and secretly wished that he didn't like that. Hugh was, needless to say, not Hermione's type of guy; he not only made her feel uneasy, but also a little _dirty_. She didn't really feel like being there anymore. Looking at her watch, Hermione decided that it was high time she left this distressing environment for someplace cosier.

"I'm terribly sorry but I have to leave," she said, smiling as she stood. "I would have loved to stay and chat, but I've just remembered a previous meeting I have arranged with a friend. I hope you don't mind me leaving so early."

"Oh no, I don't mind at all," said Hugh, as he stood and opened the door for Hermione to leave. Draco raised an eyebrow in surprise. "It was a pleasure meeting you, my lady. I'm _sure_ we'll meet again."

-

'_Bloody useless Granger_.' Draco thought angrily (he wasn't even going to bother calling her 'Hermione'; it was much too hard to pronounce anyway). She had left in such a hurry - Draco wondered whether she was actually meeting someone. Eudora had come back soon after her departure and was, as expected, surprised to see that someone was missing. It was Draco, who had to explain Hermione's reasons for leaving (his quick thinking even amazed himself sometimes). Eudora had then asked Hugh what he thought of her and he had only grinned and sighed like a lovesick puppy. That boy deserved a good spanking and Draco would only be too happy to help.

It was a few hours after the meal now and Draco was taking another stroll down Diagon Alley. His wife had fallen asleep far too early and Hugh had stolen the remote control for the television.

He opened the door to the Leaky Cauldron, feeling grumpy and in need of something refreshing. The place was packed. This didn't exactly surprise Draco, as most people liked going to pubs late. Choosing an empty seat, he sat down; waiting until the landlord of the pub (commonly known as Tom) would decide to serve him.

"Oh, it's you," said Toothless Tom, as he looked up at Draco with a hint of disgust. "What will it be tonight then, Mr Malfoy?"

Draco had a mind to curse Tom into oblivion. How dare he look at him with that expression on his face? Sure, it was a known fact that people nowadays looked down upon pure-blooded, (former) dark wizards, but it was a free country and he was a costumer!

"Hey Tom! Another Blueberry Vodka, please!"

Draco turned to see who had so rudely ordered before him. His eyes widened with surprise.

"_Granger?_"

Indeed, Hermione Granger stood behind him, wavering slightly as she waited patiently for Tom to bring her another drink. She looked at Draco and hiccupped, before letting out a maniac-like laugh.

"Oh, Draco, how nice it is to see you here!" She shrieked, leaning against Draco's body as though she had no strength of her own. He stood cautiously and began to try and make Hermione stand up straight.

"Cancel that Blueberry Vodka Tom," Draco shouted over his shoulder. "I'm not sure she can handle any more fluids for tonight."

"_What?_" shrieked Hermione, slapping him as he began to try and manoeuvre her towards the exit. "_Excuse me_, but I _think _I know how much I can handle, thank you very much! So _don't_ go around cancelling my drink, _Malfoy_! What's your problem anyway? Are you asking for a _fight_?"

Draco laughed out loud. He stopped when people began to stare. "As if. Now, stop whinging and let me get you somewhere where you can talk nonsense all you like. We can either do this the easy way, or the hard way, I don't mind which, so take your pick."

It was obvious that Hermione was a little confused for a moment. She stumbled on the pavement and was just about to make some witty remark when Draco saw his chance. He picked her up, slung her over his shoulder and made his way through the doors of the Leaky Cauldron. Now people were _really_ beginning to stare.

"Put me down immediately!" Hermione screamed, struggling in vain as she flung her limbs in all directions. Draco ignored her with gritted teeth and kicked open the door, striding outside.

"For goodness sake, would you stop squirming already? Merlin knows you're heavy enough as it is," he growled, annoyed, "find something to entertain yourself while I take you home."

He had no idea why he was doing this for her. It was lucky for her that Draco had a fairly decent memory otherwise he would have forgotten how to get to Hermione's house. Retracing the way in his mind, he began to look around for a carriage before he jumped, yelping in shock.

"Don't _ever_ do that again!" Draco shouted, throwing Hermione down onto a nearby patch of grass. She sniggered.

"Why not? You said to find something to entertain myself!"

"Yes, but that doesn't give you permission to touch my bottom!"

Hermione shrieked with laughter. "_Bottom?_ Well, that was the nearest thing to my hand so it's only natural, Draco darling."

Draco was fuming. No witch should be allowed to pinch a wizards' bottom before the wizard got a chance to pinch theirs! It certainly didn't help matters when this particular witch was _Granger. _

"Get up." He growled. Drunken Hermione was even more annoying than normal Hermione (and Draco had thought that could never be possible). She did as she was told and hastily stood, wavering a little. Making her way over to him, she leaned against his body and held onto his arm for support.

"You do have a nice bottom you know," said Hermione as she sighed in content. Her hand unconsciously found its way back to Draco's precious bottom and he slapped it away with a frustrated growl. He guessed that Hermione had probably never been this drunk (or out of her mind) as she was now and he was hopeful that she would never be this drunk again. Suddenly, Draco spotted something zooming towards them.

Ah, the Knight Bus, what a lifesaver.

-

"_Alohomora._"

The door to Hermione's home clicked open and Draco wondered whether she ever got paranoid that magic thieves would break into her home. He remembered that back in Malfoy Manor (and the Ethan Manor, in fact), security had been of utmost importance. As he stepped into Hermione's well-cleaned home, he noticed that she had changed from the dress robes that she wore while dining with Hugh into an old woolly jumper (that simply _reeked _of the Weasleys) and muddy trousers that hadn't been ironed properly. Draco sighed; she wouldn't look half bad if only she tried.

Careful not to hurt himself, Draco switched on the lights (electric lights were, needless to say, a muggle creation. Wizards, of course, did not use electric lights; they much preferred chandeliers and candlesticks).

Draco began to make his way upstairs, dragging Hermione along with him. He peered into every room to see which one could be Hermione's bedroom. There was a bathroom, a boiler room, a room that led further up (Draco assumed, to the attic), a room with nothing but piles and piles of books and finally, at the end of the corridor, a small room that looked as though it _could_ be a bedroom.

He had his doubts though – at first glance, it looked almost exactly the same as the room next door with nothing but piles and piles of books as far as the eye could see, but if you were to stare for a little longer, you would spot the small bed in the corner. It took Draco a good few minutes to guide Hermione to her bed before prising her fingers off of him and throwing her onto her bed.

"Well Granger, that was nice but I'm afraid I'll have to leave now. Goodnight." He turned to leave but found he couldn't, as she now had a firm grip on his robes.

How he wished they weren't so _fluttery_.

"Don't leave me," she murmured, tugging at Draco's robes.

"I have a home to return to, now _let go_."

"I don't want to." Hermione pouted. "Stay with me, Draco."

Draco felt a strange shiver up his spine. It wasn't everyday that someone like Hermione Granger would ask him to _stay_. He was used to _'get lost_' or _'piss off' _but_ 'stay with me' _was definitely something new. He wasn't quite sure whether he liked it or not.

Slowly, he turned around the face her. She looked up at him, her face red from the alcohol. She giggled.

"You're a bad boy aren't you, Draco Malfoy?" Hermione smiled and tugged Draco's robes hard, making him stumble and fall onto the bed beside her. Her smile altered into a smirk. "Now, be a good boy for once and stay with me."

Her grip on Draco's body was firm as she wrapped her arms around him and laid her head down on his shoulder. Her breathing soon grew steady and Draco could find no way out. He swore that girl got deliberately heavier so that he couldn't escape from her evil clutches.

He sighed. Of course, normally when women flung themselves at him he would jump at the chance and take advantage of it, but because it was Hermione, Draco didn't have the urge to. Frankly, he didn't want to touch her.

'_I guess I'll just have to sleep here,_' he thought to himself as he yawned. Well, at least it was a change from hearing the snores of an old woman.

-

**Please review! **


	4. Chapter Four

**Older And Non-The Wiser**  
**By ILUVRONWEASLEY **

**A/N: **Hello! Just a few quick words before I leave -I'd like to thank the reviewers! Without reviews, this story wouldn't be half as much fun to write. If I could type a smiley face in here successfully, then I assure you, I would have done a dozen by now. Secondly, I'd like to apologise for the lateness of this update. What with Christmas and the New Year, and all the other general holiday festivities, I didn't have enough time to edit the chapter.

-

**Chapter Four. **

Draco awoke to a scream early the next morning.

"What in blazing hell are you doing here?" Hermione shrieked, scrambling as far away from him as she possibly could. It took him a few seconds to realise what exactly was happening, while the brunette (who he had shared a bed with just a few minutes ago) jumped up and frantically looked around the room, as if to check that she hadn't been burgled.

"You didn't take or…_see_ anything, did you?" said Hermione, calmer this time. As she finished surveying the room, she began to survey herself. Draco laughed. She must think he tried to sleep with her or something. It was quite obvious that she had been so drunk yesterday that she didn't remember anything now, and that only made him chuckle all the more.

"You really don't remember anything do you?"

She opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish, as her face turned pale. She swallowed. "Malfoy, tell me what I did before I jump off the building."

"Oh, nothing much," said Draco, with a smirk. "I found you drunk in the Leaky Cauldron. Being the gentleman that I am, I decided to take you home, instead of dropping you onto the nearest pervert on the streets."

There was no use in even trying to trust a man like Draco. She knew he was up to something. "Just tell me whether I did anything…_out of character_, okay? I only went out for a drink to get that slimy, smirking, brat out of my head and no, I don't mean you, Malfoy." She paused. "Although describing Hugh like that, he does sound remarkably like you."

She sighed and clutched her head in her hands. "There was a special offer on drinks yesterday, so I had a little too much. I should have remembered that I've never been too good with alcohol, especially magically enhanced alcohol."

Draco's smirk only widened. "As I was saying, I took you here and you insisted on me staying. I tried to leave but you shoved me down and trapped me on your bed. I was helpless, you understand."

Hermione looked as though she was about to vomit. "_Please_ tell me I didn't do anything else."

It was clear by the redness of her face that she was getting more and more embarrassed by the second. With a wink that made her cheeks even rosier, Draco stood to leave and gave a heavy yawn. He looked at the window to see his reflection and smirked when he saw that not a hair was out of place.

"Well, I'll be leaving now – that is, if you let me. Oh, and another thing," he said cheerfully, opening the door. "Next time you want to compliment and have a feel of my bottom, please, make sure that _I'm_ the one that's drunk."

Chuckling merrily, Draco closed the door behind him, knowing well that Hermione would be red for the rest of the morning, at least.

-

It was around six in the morning when Draco finally arrived home. He looked around and saw that no one was awake. Letting out a sigh of relief, he began to tiptoe towards the stairs, ready to hop into bed beside his wife and pretend that he had been there all the time.

"Not so fast."

The door to the living room slowly creaked open, revealing Hugh, resting in a plush red armchair with a glass of pixie-produced champagne resting comfortably in his right hand. He smirked and took a sip, his eyes glinting maliciously in the candlelight. Draco frowned, stepping into the living room and closing the door behind him – so as not to be heard.

"What do you want?" He asked. "I'd appreciate it if you could say whatever it is that you have to say. I'm exhausted as it is."

"I'm sure you are, with what _mysterious_ activities you've been up to last night." Hugh remarked. "Pray tell me, father dear, where have you been all this time? I don't seem to remember you coming back last night after you crept out. Hmm, perhaps if I consulted mother I might get some answers? Or would you prefer it if she didn't hear about this?"

Draco looked at Hugh with displeasure. What did he want to do? Bribe him somehow, just so that his mother would not know about him not coming home? Lucius' will had stated that not only was Draco to wed Eudora, but he was to listen to every command, order and request that she had, as well as being at her beck and call. At the beginning of their arranged marriage, she had told Draco that he _was not _to be unfaithful, which meant that he was not only legally bound to her, but legally bound _only_ to her.

"What do you want?" Draco muttered darkly. "More money?"

Hugh faked a look of innocence and stood. Draco despised the fact that Hugh was as tall as he. "More money? Why go to the bother of asking you when my mother would gladly give it to me anyway? No, I don't want your money. What I do want, however, is to see that lovely lady again, except this time, I don't want _you _or my mother to be there. To put it bluntly, I want a date with her, _alone_."

"Why so desperate, Hugh?" Draco asked, a smirk replacing the frown set on his face. "You've never been this desperate before when it comes to women."

"Just arrange something," grumbled Hugh, "if you don't want me to tell mother that you were in somebody else's bed yesterday. Even if you deny it, I can twist everything you say to my advantage. If there's no proof, then I'll make some proof."

Draco made sure that his expression was unfathomable as he thought silently. It was true (of course) that he had stayed all night with someone that was not his wife, but it was also true that nothing happened beyond a little drunken banter. However, he knew that Hugh had his mother twisted (contorted, in fact) around his little finger. There was no way that he could overpower Hugh, when it came to Eudora.

"Yes, yes, father." Hugh smirked. "You know that mother would trust me over anyone – even you. So let's think, if mother obeys me, and you must obey mother, then who has the upper hand?"

He paused. "So, what do you say?"

Draco's lip twitched in reply. He did not need to say anything for Hugh to know that he had won this round.

-

Almost desperately, he tried to think of some way out of the agreement. Really, he should have asked Hermione about this date with Hugh before that arrogant nitwit could make him promise anything. He pulled a face. Here he was, sat on a bench outside Flourish and Blotts, glaring at the passer-bys who happened to be looking in his direction. What was it with these people? Had they nothing better to do than stare at him? His eyes widened for a moment before he glared extra forcefully at a particularly evil looking child.

He had been preparing himself for whatever Hermione might throw at him (whether it be verbal abuse, or tons and tons of books) once he would tell her of her already arranged date with his stepson, when, upon entering Flourish and Blotts to find her, he had been told that she had taken a leave of absence for 'personal and unknown reasons'. Mortified, he had left feeling less than enthusiastic and had then come to the conclusion that he would find her in her home. However, he had only ever travelled to her home in darkness, and everything looked strikingly different in daylight.

As the particularly evil looking child passed and Draco's glaring ceased, he suddenly had an idea. It was the daylight that made him forget the location of Hermione's home, but there was nothing stopping him from waiting until it was night, to search for her house. Perhaps then he might actually remember where it was. He groaned as he looked at his watch and found that it was only two in the afternoon. It would take _at least_ four hours before it would be dark.

Draco stood; his legs were beginning to numb from lack of movement. He decided to make his way towards the ice cream parlour, where he was sure his favourite waitress, Marie, would be ready to serve him his favourite ice cream; chocolate chip with extra mint. It was simply scrumptious – and the name almost rhymed as well.

All of a sudden he stopped as he saw three familiar faces. Sitting on the table almost directly in front of him was a woman with bushy brown hair (brushed neatly into a ponytail); a tall, lanky man with red hair; and an average looking man that would have looked like any other, if it were not for that unmistakeable lightning bolt scar. Hurriedly, he sat at a table nearby and hid himself behind the ice cream menu. He almost cried with glee, when he found just how easy it was to eavesdrop on the trio's conversation while in his current position.

"I still can't believe you, Hermione," said Ron, ladling another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth, "working for _Malfoy_? Actually _working _for that filthy scumbag? It isn't like you can't get any other job that you wanted and you won't even tell us what exactly he's paying you for!"

"I told you before, Ron," said Hermione calmly, "this is _classified information_. I can't just go around telling anyone and everyone."

"But we're not just anyone!" said Harry, sounding slightly exasperated, "we're your friends. Who are we going to tell?"

"If I tell you, Harry, then you'll tell Ron."

"Hey! What's wrong with me knowing?"

"If you know, Ron, then you'll end up telling your wife."

Draco frowned from behind his menu. So, Weasley was married. He vaguely remembered meeting a little Weasley a while ago, which meant that he had at least one child as well. And what did he, Draco, have? An elderly wife who was inching ever closer towards her deathbed and a stepson that refused to value him. Well, wasn't that dandy.

"Even if I did tell her, what harm would come from that?" said Ron indignantly.

"Well, your wife will probably tell a 'trusting' friend, who will, in turn, tell another friend and so on," said Hermione. Ron opened his mouth to protest, but Hermione persisted. "And even though Harry has no children, _you_ do Ron, and I know what your kids can be like, I've babysat them enough! Your son John is too young to know what to say so he just repeats everything he hears _you_ say and your lovely daughter Beatrix will tell any passing stranger that happens to listen, because you and I both know how much she likes to talk. She has absolutely _no_ idea what spreading news and gossip can do to a person. I'm sure that somehow, sooner or later, it'll reach the ears of a Daily Prophet reporter and before you know it the whole wizarding world will know!"

Hermione sighed and took a deep breath before continuing to eat her ice cream. From his hiding place, Draco could see that Ron's ears were burning a hot red. He sniggered quietly.

"You know, Trixy won't tell just _any_ passing stranger…maybe just one that she feels like talking to." Ron said, failing to sound, or look, convincing.

"Hermione has got a pretty good point, Ron," said Harry. "Even if you told your wife privately, your kids will somehow find out anyway. Nothing secret ever remains a secret in your house, Ron. Nothing."

Ron was obviously unsatisfied with the direction in which the conversation was going. He didn't say a word and simply returned to eating his ice cream.

Draco sighed and began to ponder. Now that he had found her, how was he going to tell her about the date that she was to have with Hugh? It certainly wasn't going to be easy, what with her two 'bodyguards' around her. Perhaps he should wait until next time, or until she returned home, but then again, he had never been the type to wait for something. He much preferred going out there and grabbing it. After all, impatience was a virtue, as he frequently told himself.

"Mr Malfoy! Why, it is a pleasure to see you here again! It's been so long," said a waitress, smiling brightly, as she made her way hurriedly to Draco's side.

"Yes, yes, hello Marie," he said, praying to Merlin that she would not attract too much attention. That girl had a tendency to squeal unexpectedly. "I'd like the usual, thanks."

"Of course, Mr Malfoy! I'll get it right away!" Marie scurried away with a bright smile, as Draco returned to spying on the Gryffindor trio – that was, he would have, if they were still there.

"Ahem."

Draco turned around to find three pair of eyes, glaring down at him. He smirked. "Fancy seeing you here, Potter, Weasley, Granger."

-

**A/N:** I hope that was okay. Please review if you have time and I hope that you had a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!


	5. Chapter Five

**Older And Non-The Wiser  
By ILUVRONWEASLEY **

**A/N: **Sorry, again, for such a late update (I know, this time is even worse than the last)! The editing takes me absolutely forever to even start, which is why the chapters take so much time, so once again, sincerely sorry. Thank you for all the reviews so far!

-

**Chapter Five. **

"What happens to bring you, all alone, to this here ice cream parlour then, Malfoy?" asked Harry spitefully, seating himself opposite Draco. The cup of ice cream that he had been eating while Draco spied on them was still in his hand.

"Oh, you know, Potter, it's a sunny day so I thought I'd just cool myself down," said Draco, returning the bitter smile, "oh and I need to talk to my new employee of course. Business talk; you know the like."

"When did you take control of your empire again, eh, Malfoy?" said Ron, raising an eyebrow, "I heard that you hired someone to do it for you, seeing as you couldn't be bothered to work and take control of what your dear old daddy left you. I would have thought you'd have got someone to send a message to Hermione, instead of actually doing something yourself."

"Well," Draco began, "her job is classified. Very classified. So of course I would deliver my message personally."

Ron seated himself beside Harry, never taking his eyes off Draco. Hermione did the same. She eyed him cautiously, as if to warn him not to say anything too apparent about her new 'job position'.

"What is it?" She asked warily.

Draco smirked and easily replied, "Do you honestly expect me to reveal _classified information _to your dear old friends?"

Oh yes, he certainly knew how to pull those strings. Hermione sighed and stood. Quickly leading him away from the ice cream parlour, she went straight towards a bench, not far from the one that he had come from.

"If I were you, I'd say what you have to say quickly, Malfoy," Hermione hissed, her arms folded across her chest indignantly. He smirked. She was obviously afraid of what this might do to her image, especially in front of her little friends.

"My dear stepson has ordered me – actually, let me rephrase that. My dear stepson has _blackmailed_ me into asking you for a date on behalf of him, Granger, preferably soon and most importantly alone. Yes, that sounds about right," he said, "so how about tomorrow -say -eight o'clock?"

"No." She replied immediately. "No, I'm not going on another date with him. It's too soon -just, too soon. I still remember what he was like. I can't - I just can't - not now. What am I going to say? What am I supposed to act like? What if I say something stupid and just plain _wrong_?"

She flung her arms in the air wildly as she finished her little rant. Draco laughed, in spite of himself.

"First thing to do, Granger, is to remain calm. You can't expect to think with that wondrous brain of yours when you're tossing your limbs in the air like a mad woman. Just remember, _you are a Slytherin_. _You are a pure-blood_. Hugh is a pure-blood, after all, so he won't know the names of any silly muggle contraptions so be sure not to mention them. Those are the basics; you'll learn more as you go along, I'm sure."

"_Learn more as I go along_?" Hermione laughed sarcastically. "You must be kidding me, Malfoy. I have to know more _now_. In case you haven't noticed, I've never actually been Slytherin, or a pure-blood before, so how am I meant to know how to act?"

"Well, if you're implying that I should help you, then perhaps I'll consider it," said Draco, "seeing as how you are putting up with my perverted stepson."

He knew, almost straight away, that she had some sort of brilliant scheme. The fire in her eyes said it all. She smiled (it was almost scary, Draco thought). "Right, meet me tomorrow at the Hog's Head, at about midday. That should be the time when it's the busiest, or at least, busy enough. This way we won't be overheard."

"Why are you so scared that someone will hear?" Draco asked, frowning curiously. It wasn't as if his behaviour was _that _embarrassing, but then again, after his father had been taken away to Azkaban, people had begun to give him weird looks and not only that; they had even begun to _disrespect _him (the cheeky buggers).

After doing his best to get the Malfoy Empire back into shape, Draco had gradually gained a sufficient amount of power: enough to thrive on. It was not a secret that at that particular moment in time, he had adored his work and his life, but that was all destroyed when Lucius died in Azkaban and his will came to light.

The will meant that Draco was to marry the woman that had once been his father's babysitter. His dear old wife had then insisted that he stay at home, instead of going to work and escaping her grasp. Therefore, he had had to hire someone to be in charge of the entire empire while he remained with his wife, killing his time by lounging around and taking walks (which he detested).

"I don't want the entire world knowing that I'm working for you, Malfoy," Hermione said, looking disgusted with herself, "I mean, it's been well publicised that you hired someone to do your work for you. Wouldn't it be odd if people were to see you talking to me, an employee, so personally? If anyone were to find out what I was actually doing for you, they just might think I'm some sort of…_hooker_."

She shuddered as Draco openly laughed. "I guess if someone was to think that about you, your whole world would fall to pieces, wouldn't it?"

"Of course it would!" she snapped, "to have people that I don't even know give me dirty looks as I pass them on the streets…why, that would be too much! I wouldn't be able to stand it."

"Oh, but Granger, darling, you _are _acting just like one of those women, so you needn't be ashamed of your occupation."

The look on her face was priceless.

"Those women? _THOSE WOMEN_?" she shrieked in Draco's ear, "indeed not! I am in _no _way, even _considering_, sleeping with that imbecile you call a stepson! This agreement is simply something that will cure many of my family's financial problems."

"Well if those are your only thoughts on the matter then I must say you are horribly mistaken," he said, "surely you know that when I asked you to be my stepson's wife, I meant for as long as humanly possible? Of course you're not going to be in any financial difficulties! Once you move in and marry the boy, you'll be living in luxury. You won't have to lift a finger!"

"Don't be an idiot," she mumbled, "of course I know that. I'm not stupid. All I'm saying is that even though, technically, I'll be married to the guy, it doesn't necessarily mean that I have to give myself to him completely. I bet he'll divorce me soon after we marry anyway. I mean, he isn't _dense_, he must suspect that I'm not who I pretend to be."

"He won't," assured Draco. "Not if he has no reason to – which, might I add, he doesn't. You could even sneak out to meet up with your friends and he wouldn't notice. You're too trustworthy, you see. He won't divorce you either. Oh, of course, he might cheat on you and still live with an innocent conscience, but he wouldn't divorce you. It would put his mother in too much stress and without Eudora, Hugh would simply be a pathetic, spoilt brat."

"So, what you're saying is that I'm stuck, pretending to be somebody that I'm not, for the rest of my life?"

He appeared in thought for a second. "Yes, that is exactly what I'm saying. Out of curiosity, Granger, why did you agree to this if you thought you were going to regret it?"

Hermione looked at him suspiciously as he hastily added. "It's not like I care or anything, but it just doesn't seem as though Hermione Granger would ever make the wrong choice, that's all."

"To be perfectly honest with you, Malfoy, I thought that if I agreed to stay with your stepson for a day or so, I would get the money and then it would be enough to give my parents a better life. I didn't realise that you would make me marry him almost straight away." She paused. "Or that you wouldn't pay me until I moved in with you, at least. I thought that maybe after the first date or something, I could take the money and run for the hills. I guess I was very much misguided. Tell me, is it too late to back out now?"

He nodded with a smirk. "You know, for a second there I thought that you agreed purely because you thought you were never going to find any other willing man to marry you."

With a glare that could send shivers up any man's spine (had Draco been paying attention), she replied, "look, you might as well save the insults for later and spend the moment gloating at the fact that I've admitted I've done something wrong."

Draco laughed and, upon finally noticing the glare Hermione happened to be sending in his direction, felt a strange shiver up his spine.

-

Disgusting, was the only word that Draco thought could describe it.

Yes, the Hog's Head was truly disgusting. A strange woman (that looked suspiciously like a man) sat in the corner, picking her teeth with a used toothpick, as another woman sat close by, reading an edition of the Daily Prophet of 1910. Two men sat laughing at one another's walking sticks, while an old man walked from one end of the bar to the other and then slowly back again. Amongst all these people, sat Draco, feeling far more superior to all of them put together. For heaven's sake, this sorry excuse for a pub couldn't even provide him with a clean cup! It was a disgrace to the picturesque village of Hogsmeade.

He shuddered as yet another queer looking person entered. He gagged at the foul smell that came with the pub's latest customer. The pub door swung open once again as he was mid-gag.

"Pulling a face like that will only give you more wrinkles, Malfoy, dear." Hermione said, smiling as she took a seat beside him. With her was a plastic carrier bag – it appeared heavy, making a loud clatter as she set it on the table.

"What's that?" He asked, prodding at the bag in a childish manner.

Hermione slapped Draco's hand away. "No touching." She said. "At least, not yet. In this bag contains Fred and George Weasley's newest invention. Part of their 'spying is good' campaign, I think, and I volunteered to test these out for them."

"I thought you were against testing things?" he asked, frowning, "if you're against house-elves doing what they enjoy the most, then you must think this is violating some kind of law, right?"

"Yes, well, I am against human testing! It's just that we may need these new invention of theirs, so I thought I might as well volunteer to test them out instead of wasting my money." She took out of the bag a pair of earrings and then a watch. "After all, I'm probably going to use these once anyway, so there's no point in paying for them."

"What are they?" Draco asked, not daring to touch. Knowing the Weasleys and their insanely creative minds, it could explode any minute. Obviously, Hermione thought otherwise as she began to fiddle with the seemingly harmless jewellery.

"Malfoy, dear, do you never listen? I told you, they're Fred and George's latest invention. I wouldn't have had to borrow them if it wasn't for that date you set me up on tonight. I do say, this has to be one of Fred and George's more sophisticated gadgets. You know, normally it's pranks and the sort, but this is definitely more… 'Secret Agent'."

"Sophisticated? I think not," he said, "the Malfoy Empire contains a string of expensive jewellery stores. I know what real silver looks like, Granger, and believe me, the quality of those earrings and that watch can hardly compare to _fake_ silver, let alone the real deal."

Wisely, Hermione chose to ignore this. "From what Fred and George say, one person is supposed to wear these earrings here, while the other wears the watch. The person that's wearing the watch can now hear everything that the person with the earrings can hear – that is, if he puts the watch to his ear, I'm presuming. Oh and if you speak into the watch, then, supposedly, the person with the earrings can hear what you're saying to them."

"Judging by your hazy explanation, I don't think these…inventions, as you call them - although I would have thought junk would be a more appropriate word - are going to work," he stated as he snatched the jewellery from Hermione's hands and threw them back into the carrier bag, "furthermore, do you really think that I would happily sit at a nearby table, with a watch to my ear, while you and Hugh drink refillable glasses of champagne?"

She pursed her lips together and sighed angrily. "Well if you're so clever then what else can we do? I doubt that you're even going to consider using a muggle method."

Draco didn't reply. Hermione smirked. "Are you, by any chance, Malfoy, considering a muggle method?"

He returned the smirk – and added a hint of malice. "It depends. I'd rather use a muggle method than that of a Weasley. What are you thinking of?"

"I was thinking something along the lines of muggle spy technology," she began, "a microphone, which you speak into, and a hearing set, so that you can hear what Hugh says, and I can hear what you say. Of course, muggle equipment doesn't work in magical areas, but I'm sure a quick complex charm would do the trick. After all, when have restaurants ever been heavily guarded? Oh, and of course we'd need an invisibility charm, so that Hugh doesn't notice all the complicated wires that come with everything."

Slowly, Draco nodded. Hermione smiled. "Good, then let it be settled. I'll have to order everything from the Magic Muggle Collections catalogue. I seem to remember that they had a 'Spying' section the last time I was flicking through it. I hear it's the latest craze for young mischievous witches and wizards and the catalogue delivers in only a few minutes time." She stood, taking the carrier bag with her. "Well, I'm going back to Fred and George's to return these goods. I'll see you tonight then, Malfoy."

Draco waved her away with an indifferent expression. He fixed his eyes onto the dirty cup in front of him and wrinkled his nose at the filthiness. Yes, it was _still_ disgusting.

-

**A/N: **Hope you enjoyed that! Review, please?


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